


A Death In The Family

by hhhhhhhappycow



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, Inarizaki, Manga Spoilers, Minor Character Death, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:55:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23398084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hhhhhhhappycow/pseuds/hhhhhhhappycow
Summary: Once Atsumu had read the text, he straightened up and double-checked that he had everything in his bag, then began to stalk towards the door.When he passed him, Sakusa raised one eyebrow.Atsumu met his gaze levelly. “’Omi. Could you tell Coach I had to go? There’s been… There’s been a death in the family.”
Relationships: Kita Shinsuke & Inarizaki Volleyball Club, Kita Shinsuke & Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu, Kita Shinsuke & Ojiro Aran, Miya Atsumu & Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 207





	A Death In The Family

Aran heaved a final sigh as he set the weights down. They fell on top of each other and the clattering sounded even over the noises of the busy gym.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead with sweatband on his forearm. That was far from his personal best, but his muscles were fired up now and he could feel how sore he was going to be tomorrow.

Nodding to his teammate on the treadmill, he ducked out of the brightly lit space where the fluorescent spheres overhead reflected again and again in the surrounding mirrors. Out in the hall, it was a little darker, and Aran blinked as he stepped into showers. His arms still tingled, and he stretched them one at a time against the refreshingly cool tile.

Oddly, as he let the hot water wash over his body, he found himself thinking of his old team. Or perhaps it wasn’t that strange; his team, his new team, was due to face off with the Black Jackals in a few days. Playing against Atsumu was never easy, although it was always nice to see a familiar face, even if it was across the net. Osamu would also hang around more often than not when he knew Aran was in town, and the three of them could use the time to catch up. Perhaps this week they would go back to Osamu’s new restaurant, like last time.

He sighed again as he shut the water off. Despite the complaints he had sometimes made, he did miss the twins and their antics. It was something he discussed frequently with Suna, whenever they saw each other, although Suna was less likely to stay around and chat than the Miya brothers.

Perhaps they should arrange to meet up at some point. Aran had talked to Oomimi about it on the phone a short while ago, the idea of arranging a reunion of sorts. All of them, his friends, had been separated by work, and it could be tricky with their conflicting schedules, but it should be easy enough to at least arrange a group video chat.

Aran smiled and wiped his face over with a towel. Yeah, that would be good.

A low humming noise caught his attention from across the room.

It continued while he fiddled with the door of his locker, cursing briefly when his fingers fumbled the key. It took a moment but then he was swinging the door open.

Huh. What an odd coincidence that he had just been thinking of his old team when the person that was calling him was Kita.

*

“Woooooh! Bokuto! Fifty!”

The loud thudding continued.

“He’s going to break his stall”, Meian muttered.

“Go, go, Bokuto!”

Inunaki had his phone out now. Atsumu sighed.

On a normal day, he might be impressed by Bokuto repeatedly leaping from the floor, pushing off with both feet, to land on the very edge of the stall of his locker. Heck, he might even join in. It was just that today had not been his day. Sure, they had won the game, but not thanks to Atsumu. Being called to the bench by their coach had been a reprieve from an onslaught of failed serves and bungled receives. What was even worse was that Osamu was going to laugh at him.

“Sixty!”

Atsumu slung his bag over his shoulder and looked past his group of half-cheering, half-exasperated teammates, already planning his escape.

A slight flicker of movement in the shadows by the door caught his eye.

Of course, Sakusa had retreated to the very edge of the room once their rambunctious outside hitter had started up. He stood with both hands clasped in front of himself, wrists twisted in a way that would be unnatural for anybody except him.

The man in the shadows glanced Atsumu’s way, and his eyes were just as tired and moody as Atsumu felt.

For the first time, Atsumu felt a kind of pity for Sakusa. In truth, he’d never really felt anything for the man before, besides a vague interest and occasional irritation.

Maybe he should take Sakusa with him when he slipped outside. At least offer him a ride home.

But no, Sakusa probably wouldn’t accept that offer. Too close to actual friendship for him.

“Alright, that’s enough, Bokuto.”

At the sounds of their coach coming in to break up the mayhem, Atsumu turned his back to the rest of the room and dug his phone from his bag. There were several notifications from various social media apps, but the only direct message was from Osamu, asking how the game went.

On a normal night, he might dignify that with a response; some small dig fired back offhand. Today, he decided to leave it. Let Osamu see he had read it and declined to reply. Osamu might call him, then: The two of them had never shared that reported twin telepathy where one could tell the other was having a bad day, but they knew the little hints they dropped to each other, and Atsumu knew his brother understood what not replying meant.

He put the phone in his pocket and turned to go.

It buzzed.

Well, that was fast. Osamu normally took a little longer to realize his brother needed to talk.

Except it wasn’t Osamu; it was Aran.

Once Atsumu had read the text, he straightened up and double-checked that he had everything in his bag, then began to stalk towards the door.

When he passed him, Sakusa raised one eyebrow.

Atsumu met his gaze levelly. “’Omi. Could you tell Coach I had to go? There’s been… There’s been a death in the family.”

*

The heavy shutters rolled down with a clang. Osamu clapped his hands together.

“Another good day today, guys, well done. Let’s wrap it up and head home.”

He almost cringed at how awful that was but forced his smile to stay fixed on his face as his workers began filing out of their flagship restaurant without a backward glance. Osamu had never been much of a leader, really, which was likely why Atsumu had become captain in their final year. Let him give the cheesy speeches. Kita had never done that, although Aran could break out the cringy lines when he wanted to.

Osamu followed them out, stepping into the cold evening air. The first few stars were beginning to dot the sky above. He couldn’t wait to be home.

Pausing, he tucked his phone into the crook of his left elbow and held his planner between his teeth, fumbling with both hands to lock the door behind him.

His phone began to vibrate and Atsumu’s name flashed across the screen.

Osamu cursed, dropped his planner, and cursed some more.

Why couldn’t his brother just text him or ask if he was free to talk at least, like a normal human being? No, he had to call out of nowhere, and always at the worst times.

He scrambled to pick up his planner and took the keys out of the door, surreptitiously checking to make sure none of his staff had spotted that.

Why was Atsumu calling now? All Osamu had asked was if the game went okay. However, now that he thought about it, he was sure Atsumu hadn’t replied to the message at all. Was something really wrong?

Because, deep down, Osamu felt some kind of affection for his twin, he answered.

“’Tsumu, I can’t talk right now. You-”

“’Samu, listen.” And Osamu’s chest clenched. Atsumu never sounded this serious. “Have you heard what happened?”

*

Each gulp of cool water tasted better than the one before. Suna could practically feel it flowing into his veins, revitalizing him.

That practice game had been rough, and they only had a few minutes to rest before the next one. Some of the guys, the ones who had clearly lost their minds, were still on their feet, bouncing on their heels to keep their energy up or stretching.

Finally setting his bottle down, Suna tuned into the conversation that Washio, sitting beside him, was having with Komori, one of the idiots still on their feet. The libero was leaning against the wall beside them and alternately stretching each of his legs.

“You do that?”, Washio was asking. As he spoke, he lifted his shirt and wiped his dripping forehead with it. Wordlessly, Suna passed him a water bottle, and he nodded in thanks.

Komori put his hands together over his head and began twisting his body in half-rotations. “Yeah, Sakusa and I swap merchandise for our teams all the time. He got me this Black Jackals hoodie, it’s so comfy and it looks really cool. I’ve given him some stuff, too, you know what a huge volleyball nerd he is. I mean, I am as well, which is why I like being able to swap.”

“To be fair, their team colors are awesome”, said Suna.

Washio took a gulp of the water and snorted. “It’s just black.”

Komori finally came to his senses and flopped onto the bench beside Washio, prodding his thigh with one finger. “Bokuto doesn’t ever give you anything, then, or ask to swap?”

“Not really. I know he gave Yukie- our old manager- a jersey and some game tickets for her birthday last year. And obviously Akaashi has like half a wardrobe of Black Jackals merch, but he won’t wear it.”

Komori raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

“He told Bokuto it’s because he’s there to support him and not the team or something, but I think he was just saying that not to hurt Bokuto’s feelings.” He shrugged. “I did give Bokuto a hat one time when we met up just after I got signed by the team, and he was happy about that. He’s kind of a nerd for volleyball, too.”

There was a small smile threatening at the corners of Washio’s lips. He could act annoyed with them sometimes, Suna thought, but it was clear he still cared about his old friends.

“Huh.” Komori blinked and then shifted his attention. “What about you, Suna? Does Atsumu ever give you any gifts? What about Aran? You used to play with him as well, right?”

Suna finally got to his feet and stretched his arms in front of him.

“I tend to get a lot of stuff second-hand from Osamu. Atsumu just gives him a ton of crap and Osamu never wears half of it. Aran has given me a sweater and, before I was signed here and Atsumu was signed to the Jackals, he used to get me and our other friends game tickets whenever we wanted.” He paused. “I’m just going out for a minute.”

At his stall in the locker room, Suna checked his phone. There were several messages from friends and family, the most recent being from Osamu. The two messaged fairly frequently, so there was no surprise there. What was somewhat surprising- although, they had surely been expecting this new to come for a while now- was what the text said.

*

To Ginjima.

To Neko.

To Ginjima.

To Neko.

Ginjima couldn’t quite tell who was winning in their game, if it even was a game. Every time he blew the ball of fluff to his cat, she batted it right back to him, but she didn’t seem to be having much fun.

He rolled over onto his back, feeling his clothes rub against the wooden floor.

He could just start the show without Akagi. Neko could be company enough.

“What do you think, Neko? Should we start watching without Akagi?”

“I can’t believe you named your cat Neko.”

Ginjima looked up, and then scrambled back to sit on his haunches.

“Was my front door open?”

“You left it unlocked when I left.” Akagi set the bag with the takeout food down on the table and sat down, stretching his arms behind his head comfortably. He dropped in like this sometimes, and the two of them would take turns getting the food. Once they’d eaten, they would have a few drinks and watch some game show with a bunch of celebrities they only half-knew.

It would have been fun, Ginjima thought, if some of the other guys could join them. Ren had come a few times, and Suna joined them occasionally. One time, about a month ago, he had managed to drag both of the twins along with him; that had been a fun night. Still, it was good to be able to at least see Akagi.

“By the way”, Akagi said as he rummaged in the bag, “you really should answer your phone.”

“My phone?”

“It was ringing when I came in.”

Ginjima patted his pockets, then hauled himself to his feet and padded to the doorway.

“Did you see where it was?”

“On the stairs. Gin, I don’t know how you always lose it. If I…”

Ginjima stopped listening as he moved into the hallway, quickly checked his door was locked, and then reached for his phone.

That was strange. Atsumu had tried calling him. That was the last person, out of their old group of friends, he would expect to call. Text, sure. But call?

As he contemplated what that might mean, his phone buzzed in his hand.

A message, from Suna.

“Akagi?”

*

Ren already knew before he answered his phone.

“Did you hear?”, were the words that greeted him when he picked up.

Gin was never one to beat around the bush.

“Yes, I heard.” He took a final sip of the tea he’d been drinking and set it on the table in front of him, turning back to his laptop.

There was a short pause, and then; “Do you think he’s okay?”

“I don’t know.” That was the truth; he’d always been hard to read.

“Are you going to the funeral?”

Ren paused in what he was typing. Then he swallowed. “I… I think maybe we should, yeah.”

*

Kita was sitting alone at the shrine with his head bowed. Silence hung all around him.

He had never felt so alone in his life.

Even in the times when he had a bad day or felt lonely, he knew his grandmother would be waiting for him to come home, with warm food and a warm smile and an even warmer embrace.

Now he didn’t even have that.

His body felt like an empty watering can slowly filling up and threatening to spill over every time he thought of going home to a dark and silent house. When she had died, she had taken all of the life and light with her. In truth, that was why he had remained in that spot for so long; he couldn’t bring himself to return to that emptiness. To confront the fact of being alone.

Footsteps made him finally raise his head.

Which other poor souls were here to cry? He should probably leave them alone in their grief; they wouldn’t appreciate a stranger, the lone mourner for a woman few would remember.

“Kita.”

Kita blinked open his eyes and turned around.

“Kita, I… We’re so sorry.”

He stared from one face to another in disbelief and then stood. His friends were gathered in a loose semi-circle beside him. All of them wore dark colors and heavy eyelids.

“What are you doing here?”, he asked disbelievingly. 

“We wanted to be here”, Aran answered simply, and Kita could have broken down just at the sight of him. “I’m sorry we’re a little late. Schedule conflicts, you know.”

Kita felt his eyes begin to water again. “You didn’t have to come. I am sorry if that sounds ungrateful, but it is true. I would have been fine.”

“We did, though”, said Osamu.

“Yeah.” Gin’s voice was thin and reedy. “You’re still our captain and our friend.”

A large hand landed on Kita’s shoulder, and Aran’s warm stare met his own. “Don’t think you were the only one who loved your grandmother.”

“Nobody else came to the wake”, Kita found himself saying. The words came unbidden and he found he couldn't stop them once he started talking. His cheeks began to heat as he realized his eyes were dangerously close to spilling with tears. “Just me. There wasn’t much money for the ceremony, so it was a very simple one. But I think she would have preferred that.”

“You know she would have been watching over you”, Ren murmured. He was even taller than Kita remembered. Had it been so long since they had last seen each other that he had forgotten? “She would be proud of you, either way.”

“She loved you so much, Kita.” Atsumu’s voice was low, with a tone Kita had rarely heard from him.

“Thank you”, he whispered. “Thank you- for coming, for being here, after all this, this time- thank you…”

The group seemed to move in around him as one, and he felt their warmth. Atsumu placed a hand on his back and Aran put an arm about his shoulders as the tears finally came.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just me having feelings about Inarizaki, especially Kita, after reading the manga. I absolutely love the relationship between Kita and his grandma, and it breaks my heart to think of how it'll be if she does eventually pass away within the series... But at least Kita's team is always there to take care of him, as he's taken care of them, and make him proud.


End file.
